


Care

by TheProperLexicon



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fever, Fluff, M/M, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheProperLexicon/pseuds/TheProperLexicon
Summary: I groan again, trying to push myself up. My arms are shaking. “I don’t feel well,” I mutter, sinking back down with my head on the pillow. “I was cold, and the heat wasn’t working.”“The heat is working fine,” Baz says, stepping over me to turn off the water. “And you’re destroying the planet. Merlin, Snow, how long as the water been on?”I can’t answer, I have no idea. “I’m still cold,” I reply, letting my eyes close again. “Freezing.”_____“I don’t feel well,” he whispers, and I can barely hear him, even with my vampire hearing. “I was cold, and the heat wasn’t working.”“The heat is working fine,” I argue. Even I’m comfortable, and I’m usually freezing. I roll my eyes and step over him to turn off the shower. I don’t know what else to do, so I hurl my usual insults. “And you’re destroying the planet. Merlin, Snow, how long as the water been on?"He doesn’t seem to register that he has been out more than a moment or two as he blinks. “I’m still cold. Freezing.”





	Care

**SIMON**

 

I’m dying. I know it. My whole body hurts and my head is the size of a balloon. It’s snowing, again. I have no idea what the temperature is, but I want to peel all of my clothes off and lay down in the drift on the sidewalk. I know that’s irrational, but it keeps needling its way into my thoughts. Thank Merlin that our building has finally appeared ahead of me. My feet are scuffing along in the soft snow beneath them, and I have my hands shoved in my pockets as I trudge. Yes, definitely trudging. I hate that word when I read it, who _trudges_ anyway. Apparently, me. I do. Right now. In this moment. And it’s stupid even now.

I push open the outer door, expecting the heat from inside to wrap around me. It doesn’t. I’m cold. Which is bizarre, because only moments ago I was so warm I was considering sleeping in a snow drift. I fumble with the keys, dropping them on the tile floor as soon as they come from my pocket. I bend down to get them and a wave of dizziness hits me. I almost sink down onto the floor and lean against the wall. But I’m cold, and if I stay out here, I’ll probably freeze to death. So, I scoop up the keys and take the step toward the door to unlock it. Almost immediately, I drop the keys again. My hands are shaking, and my fingers aren’t working right. I groan, bending again seems impossible but I brace myself on the door with one hand and reach for them. As my fingers wrap around them the door beside me opens.

“Oh, Simon!” Mrs. McCleary says, her voice bright. “Oh, you startled me!” She looks at me through glasses as thick as my little finger. “Oh, dear. You look like you might be coming down with something. Do tell me that your lovely boyfriend is home to take care of you.”

I give her a smile, or at least the closest to one that I can manage. “He’ll be home soon, Mrs. McCleary. He had lunch with his aunt.”

“Well, if he isn’t home soon, you just call on over to my flat. I’m sure my Franny will make you some soup.”

“Thank you,” I say, struggling to stay upright. She holds the door open for me, and I nod gratefully as I step in. I’m still cold. Is the furnace even on? I tuck my keys back into my pocket and grip the railing to drag myself up the three flights. At the door to our apartment I fumble for my keys again, frustrated that we keep locking the door. Why bother? Can’t Penny or Baz just put a spell on it to keep it closed to intruders? Of course, if they did that and something went wrong, I’d be locked out since I’m Normal now. After a few tries, and I can’t remember how many, I get the door open and practically tumble into the entry. I drop my keys on the floor and moan. It’s freezing in here, too.

Without bothering to lock the door back, I kick my shoes from my feet and force myself down the hall to our room. The apartment was empty. Penny is still in America on holiday and Baz is out to lunch with Fiona. I push the door to our bedroom open and stop. The window is closed, and normally the room would be stifling, but I am freezing. My teeth are chattering, I am shaking. I’m still wearing my coat and gloves, my scarf wrapped around my neck. I need more. I reach the bed and grip the blanket, pulling it off and wrapping it around me like a cloak.

When that doesn’t warm me enough, I sink onto the edge of the bed to consider my options. I can’t really work the furnace, and the stove would take so long to heat the kitchen. I glance right to the bathroom door. _That could work,_ I think. It takes me another moment to get to my feet. My legs ache. I grab a pillow, tucking it under the blanket with me, and trudge over to the bathroom.

Once inside, I close the shower curtain and turn the water on hot, then I sink down on the floor, leaving the door open, and wedge the pillow in between me and the wall. Then I close my eyes as steam begins to fill the room.

 

The light in our room looks weird. It’s the first thing I think of when I try to open my eyes. It’s too bright, and in the wrong direction. Also, the bed is hard. I blink, trying to get my eyes to adjust, and I realize I am looking at white tile and shoes. Baz’s shoes. I groan, realizing I am on the bathroom floor. Well, that’s dumb. I was already sore before I decided that sleeping on the floor was a good plan.

“Snow,” he says, and his voice is disdainful. “Why the fuck are you asleep on the bathroom floor with our comforter? That’s disgusting.”

I groan again, trying to push myself up. My arms are shaking. “I don’t feel well,” I mutter, sinking back down with my head on the pillow. “I was cold, and the heat wasn’t working.”

“The heat is working fine,” Baz says, stepping over me to turn off the water. “And you’re destroying the planet. Merlin, Snow, how long as the water been on?”

I can’t answer, I have no idea. “I’m still cold,” I reply, letting my eyes close again. “Freezing.”

Baz turns and bends down, pressing his hands to my cheeks. He’s ice. Like the snow. I jerk away, crying out faintly. “Sweet Merlin, you’re burning up,” he whispers. “Come on.” He reaches both hands down and starts to help me up. I know I’m dead weight, but I can hardly move as it is. I can feel my blood freezing in my veins. But Baz is stronger than he looks, he’s a vampire, after all. He hoists me to my feet and I struggle to help him. I put out a hand to hold myself upright, leaned against the wall.

“I’m fine,” I grumble, wrenching my arm away from him. “I got here on my own, I can get to the bed just fine, too.” As I say it, the room gives a spin and I groan.

“I’ve got a tenner that says you don’t make it to the door before passing out,” Baz mumbles beside me and I wave my hand dismissively at him. Or at least I think I do, it’s still under my blanket and frankly, I don’t know if I’m fully upright at the moment. I take a step and immediately the world lurches. I feel myself sliding down the wall and Baz’s arms come around me. He lifts me into his arms and carries me out of the bathroom, careful not to bump my head against the door. I want to protest, but I can’t. I’m delirious, probably. Instead, I lean my head against his shoulder and bury my face in his hair.

He places me gently on the bed and disappears for a moment. I’m too wrapped in my cocoon to see where he’s gone and rolling over seems like too much effort at this point. He returns a moment later with all the blankets from the living room and immediately starts unrolling me from the comforter.

“What are you doing?” I protest, gripping it closer. “I’m cold.”

“I know,” he says, his voice cool. Not as cold as the room, but still cool. “This needs to be washed before you can use it. It’s been on the bathroom floor. So, let’s wrap you up in these and I’ll wash this one quickly.”

I let him have it, because it seems logical and frankly I just want to die anyway. He takes the comforter away and disappears for a moment. I bundle up in all the other blankets, pulling one over my head to block out the light coming from the windows.

Baz is back after a few minutes, and I hear him moving around the room. He hangs something up on the window to block out the light, and then comes to the bedside. “Sit up,” he commands and I open one eye to glare at him. He’s holding a mug of something. I struggle to sit, and he leans down to help me. I notice that he’s wearing gloves and I blink at them. “You flinched when I touched you, so I’m thinking I’m too cold for you right now,” he explains, offering the mug. “Drink this.”

“What is it?” I ask, letting a hand slip from the blanket and wrap around the mug. It’s blissfully warm and I suddenly want to bathe in it.

“Just tea, for now,” he answers. I frown. “Drink it and don’t argue.” I nod and bring it to my lips, sipping gingerly. It’s scalding, and flavorless. I grimace. “I’m making soup.”

“I hate soup,” I mutter.

“I don’t give a damn, Snow,” Baz retorts. “You’re sick and that’s what sick people eat.”

“Is that what your step-mom makes when you’re sick?” I ask, though I’m not certain that I’m not slurring my words. I’m remarkably drowsy, I notice.

Baz shakes his head, watching me as I take another sip. “I’ve never been sick,” he answers. I gape at him, eyes wide. The room is fuzzy beyond him, and my head feels like it’s filled with rocks. “What?”

“Never?” I ask, shocked. He nods. “How is that possible?”

Baz hitches a shoulder. “I would imagine it has something to do with being a vampire,” he answers simply, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Finish your tea,” he says, rising to his feet. “And when you’re done, lay down. I’ll wake you when the soup is ready.”

 

**BAZ**

When I got home and the door was unlocked, I was annoyed. Penny and I have tried to impress upon him how important it is for him to _lock the damn door_. He’s like a child. Maybe it was because our dorm room locked itself, opening only for us, or that he was raised in group homes. He really has no idea that people can still break in, even if the door is locked. That’s why it’s important to give them one more barrier. But no, he constantly forgets. Or gets angry when we lock it while he’s out. It’s absurd.

I turn the knob and open the door, expecting to find him on the couch mashing one of his numerous video game controllers in an attempt to be the hero of the twelve-year olds he plays online. He calls them his clan. Or maybe it’s tribe. I honestly don’t know. The living room is empty, his keys are on the floor as though they were just dropped there. I bend to pick them up and glance around.

“Snow?” I call, pushing the swinging door to the kitchen open. He’s not in there either. I toss the keys onto the table by the door and head for our room. “Snow?” I call again, stepping inside. The bathroom door is open and through it I can see that the mirror is fogged up. There is steam spilling out into the room and I frown. He doesn’t usually shower in the day time. I hope he hasn’t fallen down the stairs and bloodied himself up again. Ugh, the last time he did that the bruises lasted weeks. It hurt every time I looked at him, a sharp stabbing pain in my chest when I caught the shadow of the bruise on his jaw.

I cross to the bathroom, ready to simply close the door and keep some of the steam out of the damn bedroom. But as I reach for the handle I look down. He’s curled up on the fucking floor, his golden curls in his face, with our comforter wrapped around him. I gape. What the fuck is he thinking? “Snow,” I say again, and he stirs. Groans. “Why the fuck are you asleep on the bathroom floor with our comforter? That’s disgusting.” I feel my skin crawl. I know I just cleaned the bathroom last weekend, but for fuck’s sake, what is he thinking?

“I don’t feel well,” he whispers, and I can barely hear him, even with my vampire hearing. “I was cold, and the heat wasn’t working.”

“The heat is working fine,” I argue. Even I’m comfortable, and I’m usually freezing. I roll my eyes and step over him to turn off the shower. I don’t know what else to do, so I hurl my usual insults. “And you’re destroying the planet. Merlin, Snow, how long as the water been on?”

He doesn’t seem to register that he has been out more than a moment or two as he blinks. “I’m still cold. Freezing.”

I reach down and brush my hand over his face. He’s sweltering. Not just his normal Snow heat, he a fucking wildfire. He’s the flames in the woods the night we first kissed. He’s brimstone and hellfire. He flinches away from me with a gurgled outcry. I’m clearly too cold for him. “Sweet Merlin, you’re burning up,” I whisper, but I doubt he hears me. “Come on.” I reach down to help him up, knowing I can carry him if I have to. He struggles to help, but it’s pretty clear that he can’t hold himself up without me or the wall beside him. But he’s stubborn to a fault, and he tries to push my hands away.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, all sullen frustration and sexy rasp. Even sick, his voice hits me in the heart. “I got here on my own, I can get to the bed just fine, too.” I watch as he stumbles.

Sarcasm is my defense mechanism, and I show it. “I’ve got a tenner that says you don’t make it to the door before passing out,” I say. He makes a gesture somewhere under the comforter, which I clearly have to take away from him since it’s been on the bathroom floor. But before I can he begins to slide down the wall and I reach out and scoop him up in my arms. I expect a protest, but all he does is nuzzle his face into my neck and lean into me. He’s a furnace, and not in his typical way. I bring him to the bed and put him down on it, watching him roll over away from the window. He’s too warm, and that worries me. I’ve never been sick, what do I know about caring for someone like this.

I leave him in the bedroom and go to the kitchen to call Bunce. She answers on the third ring, and she’s breathless, like she had to run for the phone. “Baz, hey,” she says, and I hear the smile. “I was just packing to come home. How’s things? No more holes in the walls for me to patch, I hope.”

She’s half joking. The last two times she’s gone to America she’s come home to a hole in the wall behind the door where Simon has slammed his way into the house. “No, Bunce,” I answer. “But, I need help.”

“Oooooo,” Bunce draws out. “Baz needs help? I’m intrigued. Tell me more, young Padawan.”

I roll my eyes at the Star Wars reference and grit my teeth. “Look, Snow’s sick. Like, really sick. He’s got a really high fever, and he can’t hardly stand. I’ve never been sick. I don’t know what to do.” I bow my head. I want to take care of him. I want to make him better, but I don’t know how. I don’t have these skills. The only person I know who does is Bunce, and she’s thousands of miles away.

She’s quiet when she speaks again. “How high is his fever, Baz?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “I’m too cold to get a good idea. Do we have a thermometer?”

“No,” she replies. “Listen. Make some tea. I have a chicken noodle soup frozen in a bag. I made it a few weeks ago, in case one of us needed it. It works really well when you’re sick. You can put it in a pot and melt it down. Apply a cup of water or two, depending on how thick it looks. Have him eat one whole bowl, make sure there’s a good mixture in there.” I’m nodding like she can see me, taking mental notes as she talks. “If the fever hasn’t broken in a few hours, you’re going to have to take him to the hospital. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I creak out, fear slamming into me like a train. “Penny,” and my voice breaks. “Is he going to be ok?”

She’s silent for a long second, and in that time my whole body starts to pound. Like I’ve lost connection to the ground and I’m floating, untethered. “I don’t know, Baz,” she whispers. Those four words are the most painful I have ever experienced. My heart is burning in my chest, and it’s hard to get a breath. “Start with tea. Heat the soup. Call me if you need me. No matter what time.” I nod, but she can’t see me. “Tell me you understand, Baz.”

“I understand,” I choke out.

“Ok. Let me know if you have to take him in, ok?”

“I will.”

 

**SIMON**

 

It’s dark. I don’t know if it’s because Baz put up a blackout curtain or if it’s because it’s night time. I’m awake because it’s unbearably hot in the room. Stifling. I claw my way out of the blankets that are covering me, sweat is dripping down my body, pooling in the small of my back. My shirt is stuck to me and I reach for my hem to peel it off of me.

“Simon?” Baz says, rounding the corner into our room. He’s wearing a cardigan and jeans and I can’t help but wonder how he can stand the heat. It must be three hundred degrees in this room. “Simon, what are you doing?” he asks, immediately crossing to the bed. “What’s happening?”

“It’s so hot,” I growl, fighting with my shirt.

“Stop,” he says, and his voice is soft. His hands are on mine and he’s so cold that it almost burns as much as everything else. I flinch away. “Simon, stop,” he forces me to leave my shirt on. “You’re not getting better.” The last part is said so softly I probably shouldn’t hear him, but I do. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“What?” I ask, blinking. I’m so hot I want to scream. “Why?”

“You’ve had a fever for at least ten hours. I have no idea how long you were sick before I got to you. I need to take you to the hospital. Bunce made me promise.” His voice is soft and he’s watching me carefully, like I’m going to fight back. I can’t fight back. I feel like a noodle, my arms hurt. My back aches just from sitting up. I’m relatively certain I can’t stand up. Finally, I nod.

“I’m going to need help to get dressed,” I say. He nods. And then he helps. He’s soft with me, in a way that he rarely is unless we’re in the dark, whispering promises. His hands are gentle as he helps me change clothes, puts on my shoes when I get dizzy bending down. He’s soft as he wraps my coat around me and tucks me under his arm to take me out to his car. He puts me in the passenger seat like I’m made of glass and tucks a blanket around me, even though I tell him I’m not cold anymore. He tells me that it will make him feel better to know that I have the blanket, and I nod because his voice is soft and his eyes are liquid, and I can’t imagine how I would worry if it were the other way around and I had to get him to the hospital. I close my eyes as he backs out of the spot, and I feel his hand slip into mine. I smile despite how miserable I feel, because Baz is here and he’s going to protect me.

 

**BAZ**

 

I’ve never had much reason to come into a hospital. Especially a Normal one. The Pitches don’t spend a lot of time in the Normal world, at least not until I did. Everything is white and sterile looking, and it smells of disinfectant. We’ve been in this room for an hour now, and they’ve hooked Snow up to all sort of things. Clear bags and monitors. I can see his heartbeat on a screen across from me, and I do. I watch it, my hand lightly draped over his wrist. I can watch his heartbeat and feel it under my fingers at the same time.

A curtain pulls aside and a woman steps in. She’s holding a tablet and scrolling, nodding to herself. Then, she looks up at me and her face softens. “Hello,” she says in greeting. “I’m Doctor Turner.” I nod. “I see here that you are listed as his partner in his records, Mr. Pitch.”

“Baz,” I reply, surprised. I had no idea that Snow had given consent for me to have access to his records. It sends a small thrill through my veins. “What did you find out?”

Doctor Turner glances at the tablet in her hand again. “Well, it seems that Simon has a rather nasty strain of the flu,” she says. I exhale slowly. “I will say that had you not brought him in, this could have been very dangerous for him, indeed. But you’ve acted within plenty of time. We’re going to get him some fluids and we’ve already administered something to bring the fever down. We’re going to keep him overnight, but if everything goes as we expect, you two should be able to go home tomorrow.” She nodded to where Simon was sleeping next to me. “He’s very lucky, Baz,” she adds, softly. “You did well.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” I reply, bowing my head and squeezing his wrist with my fingers. She pulls the curtain closed behind her and leaves us there alone. The only sound is Snow’s breathing and the low beep of the machines around us. I’m so focused on the sounds around me that I hear the hitch in his breath that means he’s waking up and I lift my head.

His eyes flutter and he looks around, taking in the white walls and white curtains, the black of the night outside, before his gaze falls on me. “Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey,” I reply, my hand sliding from his wrist to wrap themselves in his fingers. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he says, trying to shift. Almost immediately he pales. “Oop, maybe not. Ugh.” He lifts his free hand to his forehead and rubs it. “What happened?”

“You have the flu,” I reply, tracing my fingers over the back of his hand. His skin twitches and I feel my lips pull up a bit at the corners. Despite how sick he was, or maybe because of it, his reaction to my touch warms me. “They’re keeping you overnight.”

He frowns and his brow creases. I want to rub the line away with my thumb, but I don’t know if I can stand without shaking right now. I’ve been worried half to death since he fell asleep in the car on the way here. I had imagined all sorts of terrible things happening when I pulled up to the emergency room entrance. Orderlies pulling him from the car, stretchers being run down hallways, doctors screaming orders. But, now that he's here, looking at me with those blue eyes I love so much, I am overwhelmed. “Will you stay with me?” he whispers, and I hear the worry there.

My heart slams against my chest. How can he think I wouldn’t? How can he think that I would leave him here, alone? “Of course, you fucking ray of sunshine,” I whisper, bringing my lips down to drop a kiss on his fingers. His lips curl up in a tiny, tired smile and across from me his heartbeat crescendos to a faster beat on the monitor. “There’s nowhere else I’d want to be.”

“Not even at home in our bed?” he asks, and his tone is sleepy.

I feel my most wicked smile twisting up my lips. “Of course not. You used our comforter on the fucking bathroom floor. I’m never sleeping on that set again.”

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” he asks, his eyes drifting closed.

“Not as long as you’re dating me, Snow.”

“So, forever, then?” And he’s asleep, leaving me watching him in a mixture of awe and affection. He’s right. He’s never getting rid of me. I’m in love with Simon Snow and there’s nowhere else I will ever want to be.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously? Another Carry On fic? I can't stop. I should be working my own, actual book, but... here we are.
> 
> If you want more of my Simon/Baz ridiculousness, you know where to find them. And happy reading!


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